With apologies

I am sorry

for the Daily Cup

I did not write today

 

but when I awoke

the birds were singing

after long silence.

 

Five days ago, it must have been,

they carved a glory across the sky:

thirty, forty, sixty of them,

racing past my window panes

tracing a curve across the empty blue

and when, at last, they lifted 

and soared past vision

it was not the sky

but my heart

that was carved wide open

 

and all the glory of God streaming in